Kismet
by 13thReflection
Summary: The hilt of the plasma gun, the way his eyes predicted the trajectory of the weapon before he even fired it, or even the way that warm blood scattered like fireworks as the body of flesh, of man, crumpled to the ground; he would forget all of that. Because it didn't matter anymore...right?


This is a story I had written for my WR100 class. All I did was replace my original names with Roxas and Xehanort/Ansem because lol fanfiction.

Enjoy

* * *

Kismet: a power that is believed to control what happens in the future

_"This is for the best, right? This is how it's supposed to be. I know it."_

Roxas, more than anyone else, could clearly remember the day everything changed. He could remember how the day started out perfectly normal, just like any other of the 1,324 days he had existed at the time. He could remember how everything unfolded from beginning to end; each step causing the situation to become worse and worse until finally, but far too late, everything stopped. But most importantly, Roxas _didn't_ want to remember. He didn't want to remember the feel of cool steel, how his sweaty palms made the hilt difficult to hold and his nerves rattled everything. He didn't want to remember the calm gaze that followed his every step; that watched him and understood him and _loved_ him because he knew.

He knew.

And that made Roxas furious. Because he didn't know, he didn't know anything at all. There he was, his creator, The Creator, with a soft smile on his face accompanying a look of pure acceptance; expectancy. The Creator knew everything, but he could not have known everything, could he? Oh, it was certain that it would come to this, that one day he would die and that it would be his greatest creation, his greatest pupil, who would be the one to take him to Rashnu for judgment. But could he have known that Roxas would feel the same wretched pain as he? That Roxas would perform his duty with the utter perfection that was ingrained in him, but that he would hurt and cry in anguish when it was all over? That a being without a heart, without a soul, could cry as he collapsed to the ground in simple, pure, relief?

Roxas didn't think so. For once, he'd like to imagine that The Creator didn't know everything, that for the first time in his meek existence his actions did not fall within the expected parameters that corresponded to his actions.

_"Why do you want me anyways? Wouldn't you want to choose someone special, someone with worth and value to their life?"_

_"But you are special, don't you see? More so than anyone else. Because you've struggled to survive in a cruel world and you've done it. You lived"_

_"But I'm coming here to die, aren't I? So what does the past matter anymore? I'm throwing it all away, all of your expectations, all of my dreams, my future. I give up. And since I couldn't be useful while I was alive, I might as well as be useful when I'm dead."_

Roxas didn't like to think about the past, mostly because he couldn't remember much from the time before he wasn't 'Roxas'. His neural processor handles all of his newest memories with ease, but it's the memories from before it was inserted that tend to become distorted. It was with this sentiment that Roxas pushed the memories away and hid them in the deepest part of his processor. The hilt of the plasma gun, the way his eyes predicted the trajectory of the weapon before he even fired it, or even the way that warm blood scattered like fireworks as the body of flesh, of man, crumpled to the ground; he would forget all of that.

Because it didn't matter anymore...right?

_"Of course not, boy. You haven't come here to die. We've brought you here so you can live like you've never lived before, so that you can become something even better than any human that has ever lived or will live. Do you trust me? _

_It would be in your best interest if you did, I think. Now, come with me. Preparations begin tonight, and we wouldn't want to be late."_

* * *

Roxas fiddled with the communication pad in his hands as he let the computer take over the ship's navigation. He's always hated travelling on the Interstellar Galaxy Highways. While they made travelling through interstellar space safer and more efficient, they also allowed for easier tracing of anything that emitted a signal, namely, the user interface that constituted the ship's computer control system.

As he saw it, Roxas had three options. He could re-calibrate the ship to a different frequency, but that was the equivalent of steering the ship back to Vorza's mercenary guards and handcuffing himself to the chair. Anyone who happened to be pointing a sensor in his general vicinity would spot him in two seconds flat, no doubt. He could turn off the ship's identification marker, but that would leave him vulnerable to inspection, something he really didn't feel like having to weasel his way out of later. That left the best option: leaving the Highways. However, that also meant having to do the navigation himself, and Roxas didn't have the luxury of time to do so. So he settled for Plan C instead and decided to wait things out and hope that he could reach the next planet before the Mercs caught wind of his trail.

If he has counted correctly (and he has, thanks to the processor), Roxas has been on the run for the last 27 weeks, 3 days, 18 hours, 17 minutes, and 34 seconds. As he crossed his legs atop the dash board, Roxas marveled at his existence. Really, he couldn't quite understand how he was still alive. As the Mercs like to put it, his existence is "highly illegal". Cyborgs, as it is, should not exist at all. The number one, unanimous rule across all 12 known species of intelligent life forms currently in the Alliance, who inhabit the nearby planets, is that to incorporate multiple objects of machinery in one's self for non life-threatening purposes means instant dismantle: in other words, death. There was no argument, no trial, no 'returning' to normal: to the Mercs, it was death upon sight, no questions asked.

_"So, Dr. Xehanort, I know it doesn't mean much at this point, but what exactly does this process entail?"_

_"Oh, it's really quite extraordinary! A true marvel of scientific advancement! I'm so glad you asked..."_

Roxas was currently heading to the planet C853552-8, more commonly known as Trona. Here, he was hoping to start his new career as a roboticist where he could live a life of relative obscurity and away from the prying eyes of the Mercs, the mercenary guards from planet Vorza. They are infamous throughout the galaxy for their cruelty, skill, and their unrelenting thirst for violence.

Roxas didn't like to dwell much on it, though. Thinking about it too much would only serve to distract him and could cause unnecessary repercussions.

He had been on route to Trona for the last 3 days, feeling cramped in his small transportation ship. It was of an older design, one that wasn't in make or fashion anymore. It was originally meant to transport personal cargo from one planet to another, but it had a decent sized water tank and a handy navigational system, so Roxas wasn't complaining.

He had been doing just fine on Vorza, with a small one room apartment and a secure job all to his name. He had been planning on staying there for some time while he came up with a plan on what to do next, but his fate was decided for him the moment he stepped outside one morning only to see a Merc ship docked at the landing harbor down the road. Of course, he couldn't have been sure that the Mercs were there for him; after all, there were plenty of other criminals to be hunted down and other such business to attend to. But the sight of the ship had sufficiently scared Roxas into action, and he didn't think twice about hurdling to his ship and departing immediately for Trona. It's not like he had any precious possessions to take with him, and he couldn't risk the possibility of returning back to his apartment only for it to be swarming with Mercs just waiting for him to take one step through the door.

Since he has had some time to think calmly, Roxas realized that he may have acted a bit rash on his part. However, he generally assumed that it was better to be cautious than dead. So instead of turning the ship around and apologizing to his boss for his 'very sudden and very severe case of digestive problems', Roxas continued onwards to Trona and hoped that he could settle as quickly and as quietly as possible.

As he was cruising along the Highway, his musings were suddenly interrupted by the incessant beeping of the proximity radar before an explosion near the port side of the ship sent Roxas flying to the steel floor. The emergency operations system immediately engaged and Roxas simultaneously shot up and returned to his seat, taking the controls and trying to figure out what was going on. He brought up the rear sensors on the control panel and was relieved to see that there wasn't much damage to the ship, that whatever had caused the explosion was probably too far away to gain an accurate target and the weapon had lost most of its energy by the time it reached Roxas's ship. He quickly opened the diagnostic program, and it was then that whatever fired at Roxas came into his ship's sensor range.

The beating in Roxas's chest seemed to halt for a moment as he choked on his breath, eyes bugging out to stare, frozen, at the screen. There, in fuzzy pixilated glory, was the unmistakable form of a ship with the Merc logo on it, its weapons trained steadily on Roxas as it slowly came closer and closer.

But as Roxas sprung into action, his eyes rapidly sweeping back and forth with panic rising in his chest, he noticed something off about the ship. On the side of the ship, no mistake, was the Merc logo: however, as it got closer and as his ship picked up a better signal, he was able to make out more detail than before, and Roxas was pretty certain that the Merc logo didn't usually have a large black X running through it. He could see that off to the side a large symbol had been painted next to the Merc logo, and it was then that Roxas took a deep breath and calmly exhaled.

It wasn't the Mercs that had found him, but he wasn't out of trouble yet. These were IPRGF Bounty Hunters that had caught up to him, but Roxas couldn't decide whether they were fearsome, stupid, or maybe even a little of both. For starters, the Hunters tend to shy away from the Mercs for obvious reasons. Many Hunters had their own price on their heads and the Mercs would be rallying for a quick fight or two. Second, any Hunter of a respectable name knew that to engage in open space battle meant that you had to be close to your target. The Hunter's long-range weapons often missed their goal despite recent advancements in their targeting systems, and even if they reached their targets, they did little damage because most of the energy had dissipated.

Roxas didn't recognize this group's mark, so he figured that they must have been relatively new to the area. His ship's sensors picked up a spike in energy levels and Roxas quickly diverted any non-emergency power to the shields. The Hunters were gaining on him fast, but Roxas wasn't concerned. Generally, Hunters were not the best in space battle, as they relied more on one-on-one combat and close range weaponry than the auto targeting systems aboard their ships.

As the beating in his chest finally returned to a value within normal parameters, Roxas put the ship's weapons on auto-fire and decided to turn his attention to out-running the Hunters until he could think of something better. This was the best option out of the few available, as commencing in battle on the Highways often led to unwanted spectators.

The ship's control panel was set up so that each different component was mounted on a track and could be rotated as necessary, making piloting solo much more efficient. Roxas rotated the contraption, and the navigational system appeared before him. He increased the engines' thrust, and seeing as the Hunters had yet to fire again, he ceased routing the shields extra power as he boosted the engines instead. He knew that there was one of the rare Highway intersections coming up because he had been on the lookout for it all day, and he knew that he was very nearly there. Roxas figured that if he could keep them off his tail for another hour or so he'd be in the clear. The Highway intersections were more common the closer they were to planets, but Roxas had taken a round-about way to Trona and, consequently, there were fewer intersections. Roxas sent a warning shot to the other ship, signifying that he was prepared to battle but that he would not return fire unless the other ship continued its assault. The other ship continued advancing for a few moments until it abruptly fell back, moving out of firing range. It instead chose to follow Roxas, but kept its weapons locked on his ship.

This was just getting too weird. Thirty minutes later, after Roxas hadn't so much as blinked, his eyes trained steadily on the Hunters, he felt curiosity gnawing at him as he wondered what in the world was going on. Whenever Roxas tried to hail the ship, he never received a response. When he tried slowing down or speeding up, the other ship responded accordingly and kept the same distance apart. Roxas couldn't figure out why the ship attacked him in the first place, or why it had decided to leave him alone now.

Soon enough, a message appeared on the control system that there was an intersection ahead. By then, Roxas had a rough idea of a plan that might work. He figured he was pushing his luck here, that the Hunters would be prepared for his ruse or that they would recover quickly and catch up to him again. Either way, Roxas had no other option. In comparison to the stolen Merc ship, Roxas's tiny cargo ship was out gunned and out manned. He had no advantage over the other ship speed-wise, and so he was at the mercy of the other. His only options left were some skillful piloting and a little bit of luck.

In space, there was nowhere and everywhere to run to and an infinite amount of possibilities.

To get to Trona, Roxas would have to take the right branch of the Highway, but he didn't want to clue the Hunters in on where he was heading because that was just plain stupid. After all, it wasn't that hard to guess where he was going. In this part of the galaxy there were three habitable planets: Trona, Maunder, and Epimetheus.

Epimetheus was a small, rocky planet with two moons and a F3 class sun. It was an arid and hot place with few large settled communities. The people tended to stick close together as they roamed across different areas on the planet and outsiders were not welcomed. Outsiders were free to make their own caravans and could enjoy the fRoxasoms of any other Epimetheans, but it was widely assumed that they would take for granted a stranger's kindness and would disrespect the land, seeing as it was not their own. While there were a few extreme examples that contributed to the prejudice, most travelers went to great extremes to be as cautious as possible when visiting the planet. As such, the planet was too hard for Roxas to try to incorporate quietly into. News of an outsider who actually wanted to _stay_ would spread like wildfire within weeks and the talk would never die down, completely obliterating any hope for life in obscurity.

Trona was a warmer and larger planet. Its temperatures were similar to those of Earth's at a latitude of 30 N. What made this planet special, and the perfect place for Roxas's escape, was that the planet lacked a tilt. Because of this quirky little feature, there were no seasons on Trona and no concept of 'winter' or 'summer' existed. Its relatively calm climate and warm weather made Trona's major cities the ultimate vacation destination, receiving visitors by the hoards every week. It was a world bustling with activity, making the cities the perfect place for Roxas to sneak into. Because Roxas was a known fugitive with his face plastered on every plasma screen across the worlds, there was no way he could actually legally get into Trona. However, Roxas was a particularly skilled hacker with his processor and he knew how to forge traveler documentation and codes.

Preferentially, Roxas would have liked to have gone to Maunder instead of Trona. Maunder was a planet similar to that of Trona, and while it maintained a tilt in its axis, it had a mild climate for most of the year and then a short, harsh winter. However, finding out the landing codes for Maunder had proved to be a more difficult task then he had expected. He had only just acquired the landing codes and all the documentation needed to land at Trona a few weeks before the Mercs came to Vorza, and Roxas hadn't the time to finish everything for Maunder before he made his unexpected escape.

As the ship finally got close enough to the split in the Highway, the navigation system alerted Roxas that he had just a few minutes left to enter his desired route before it would halt thruster power and wait in limbo until a decision was made.

Roxas made for the left route and the Hunters followed steadily behind him. After a minute or so of travel, Roxas disengaged the ship's auto pilot and prepared the coordinates for his destination. Carefully, and with a mechanic like precision, Roxas grabbed hold of the steering system and jerked his hands to the right, causing the ship to careen to the side and run off the Highway in one simple, fluid motion.

The Highways weren't something you could actually see, as they were merely a signal-based guiding system. Roxas had never traveled off the Highways before, but he found that it was surprisingly simple and less of a challenge than he expected. While he now had to account for multiple variables such as velocity and distance himself, Roxas figured he should be fine. His aim was to rejoin the Highway on the right side of the fork, the one that would lead him to Trona. By crossing over to the right side from the left, Roxas hoped he would be able to lose the Hunters.

Ships, you see, did not normally come with the ability to leave the Highways. Partly as an effort in coordination and partly as an effort to control trade and supplies, every ship is built with an automatic relay that kept the ship within the boundaries of the Highways. Only the ships of high officials and those who personally requested so, at the price of a small fortune, could be built without the relay and/or the ability to neutralize it. The Hunters' ship was only a standard Merc ship; something designed more for local patrol rather than high speed chase or combat. As such, Roxas knew that it did not have the necessary authorization to disengage the relay, leaving it bound to the Highway.

Roxas had overcome this problem himself by interfacing with the ship directly. By having a neural processor, Roxas had the ability to access the ship through the device and basically have free reign. He had disabled the relay the moment he acquired the ship, in case moments such as this should arise.

So far, Roxas was in the clear. The Hunters had ceased to a halt the moment Roxas had left the Highway and they had remained motionless since then. He felt slightly uneasy about this, like the ship was merely biding its time. For what, Roxas couldn't guess, but he figured he'd be far enough away by the time anything happened.

Roxas's ship detected that the right fork of the Highway was coming up momentarily, leaving Roxas to adjust the controls quickly in preparation for re-entry. He gently pulled the steering system downward and felt the ship tilt upward as he made his way above the Highway. Checking to make sure that the Hunters hadn't moved, Roxas switched the controls back to auto pilot and prepared to interface with the ship to turn the identification signal back on. While it wasn't necessary, it was the safest option. If another ship, specifically a Merc patrol ship, happened to pass by Roxas while he wasn't emitting an identification signal he knew he'd be in trouble then.

As soon as his processor connected with the ship, Roxas knew something wasn't right. Normally, when he was connected through the processor, Roxas felt free. He would feel the invisible bindings release him, feel the way cool synthetic flesh, covering intricate, delicate, machinery gave way and melded to true flesh; to the truest being, to man. How what used to be fact, which no longer exists, existed once more in a place unknown to the human, one of the few places where humans did not and could not belong. Roxas loved the feeling, the feeling of wholeness and completeness and sameness all at once. He was no longer the mechanical being, the cyborg , the android; in the computer, away from his body, he felt like a being equal to and greater than man.

But now, he felt none of that. It felt cold, dark, constricting. He felt like a prey being watched through the hungry eyes of the predator; he felt diminished, weak, and useless. In the place inside the machines, the place where only those like him could enter, Roxas spun around frantically, searching for a solution, for something.

Anything.

"I bet you thought you were clever, boy, with your little stunt. Thought you had us tricked and that you had gotten away from us, from me, didn't you?"

Roxas swiveled towards where the voice had come, careening his neck, staring with eyes wide and mouth agape at the figure before him. A tall man stood calmly with a slight smirk on his face, a small upturn of the cheek. An air of superiority shrouded the figure, while confident eyes gazed solemnly, knowingly, at Roxas.

The _same_ eyes, the _same_ smile, the _same_ knowing look.

"I don't understand. You're dead. I killed you! How can you be here now? You're supposed to be dead."

Roxas clutched his head, his hands (so human, so lifelike) grabbing painfully at his hair. He couldn't understand what was going on. His creator, The Creator, stood before him as though nothing had happened. As though Roxas, fearing for his own life, had never panicked, had never grabbed the first weapon he saw and aimed straight for The Creator's beating, human, heart.

Roxas searched his processor, re-watching the memories of that day, re-watching what he had already seen a thousand times before. He saw what he always saw; how he killed The Creator and ran, ran, ran. The Creator's voice suddenly rung out, startling him from his memories and demanding attention once more.

"Honestly, I thought you were supposed to be a smart cyborg. Do you mean to tell me that you never realized what I am?"

Roxas was confused. The Creator was _The Creator_, the man who found Roxas before he was Roxas, back when he was just a lowly human orphan living on the street, but nonetheless a _human being_. This was the man who inspired in Roxas a hope for his life, a purpose, and who granted the boy who was not Roxas a second chance at life, a new beginning. By the end of the process, the start of his new beginning, the boy who was not Roxas had died and the cyborg who was Roxas was born.

"I'm a cyborg, just like you. I always have been. When you 'killed' me you most certainly shot my heart. I dare say you destroyed the last of my humanity! I was already 96% mechanized, but following our last little get-together I have been fully, and finally, reborn as a complete android. My old name was Dr. Xehanort, but seeing as I am no longer who I was then, you can call me Dr. Ansem."

Roxas couldn't help but stare. He had no idea what the hell was going on. How was it that he had never realized that The Creator had been a cyborg just like he?

He had to get away. He knew, could feel it in the space and the machinery which surrounded him.

Something was wrong.

Roxas, who had been facing The Creator, spun around and started running the opposite direction. In the digitized space that was created whenever he accessed machinery through his processor, a sort of terminal area existed, though there wasn't really anywhere to go. But when Roxas tried to exit the interface and return his mind to his body, he couldn't. Something was stopping him, holding him back, and Roxas was suddenly terrified.

He couldn't go back. He couldn't go back. He was stuck here with The Creator and _he couldn't go back._

Suddenly, The Creator re-materialized in front of Roxas, causing him to flinch and scramble backwards, putting some distance between the two.

"You knew I was a cyborg back when I met you the first time. You were a scrawny little thing. Quite audacious as well! When my team was snooping around the streets for some specimens, you saw us and all but marched forwards and demanded that we take you. What a foolish boy! Of course, we brought you back with us. And look at you today! What a fine cyborg you make."

"It's too bad, you see, what happened. You're ordered to be decommissioned because of your little stunt here. Nonetheless, we can still salvage you. Your body is still perfectly able, so all we have to do is replace your processor and voila! A whole new you again. This will be the third time we've had to do this and I doubt we'll be given any more chances after this. For some reason, you just can't seem to obey orders. Ha! Who would have thought..."

Meanwhile, Roxas was trying to exit the interface over and over again. Each time he was met with the same despairing results. Eventually he gave up, but every time he tried running away, The Creator kept appearing and blocking his way.

"Stop! Let me go, let me leave! What did you do to me!? Why can't I leave!?"

"You won't be going anywhere. You see, I had to resort to following you with those damn Hunters. I knew you would be on the lookout for any Mercs and the Hunters were the only ones willing to take me this far. This little fight was over the moment we shot your ship, I'm afraid. I launched what was in essence a remote hacking device at your ship that allowed for me to interface with your ship undetected. All I had to do then was bide my time until you interfaced again, but I certainly wasn't expecting you to do it so soon. I dare say it must have been kismet!"

All the while, The Creator was moving forward, closer and closer to Roxas.

"Now, let's get a move on, shall we? I've wasted enough time with you as it is."

Roxas couldn't do anything. He knew it, and he knew that The Creator knew it as well. He had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, and he couldn't exit the interface.

"Stop, leave me alone! I promise I won't cause you any more trouble, please! I have memories, emotions, people I care about: a heart. Please, I beg of you. I have a heart! Don't take that away from me, not again".

Roxas crashed to his knees, despair etched into his face and pain clawing at his chest, at his heart.

"You really are foolish. You think you still have a heart? That was the very first thing we removed when we cyberized you. After all, we wouldn't want something as silly as a heart getting in the way of our experiment. All you have in that little space now is nothing more than a specialized robotic heart. But we've learned some valuable lessons from you that we'll be sure to account for next time."

The Creator walked slowly, deliberately, nonchalantly, each step bringing him closer and closer to Roxas. Finally, when The Creator got close enough, he knelt down in front of the cyborg, the poor broken boy.

Roxas looked up and The Creator was surprised to find tears in his eyes.

"I'm still human, right? I'm still alive, aren't I? I still love and hate; I still cry. You can't cry without a heart, right!? Please, just...before I'm gone, before you put an end to me, I need to know the truth...please..."

The Creator stared at Roxas, but his eyes were filled with nothing. There was no pity, no love, no hate, no understanding: there was only the empty gaze of a machine staring at the cyborg, the human, the being that had stumbled and lost his way and was now lying here, broken.

"Of course not. You are no longer human, as you forfeited that so many years ago when you came to me. You had resigned yourself to death back then, and so you had resigned yourself of your own humanity."

With those final words, when truth and lies were said, The Creator grabbed hold of the poor being that lay in front of him and delivered the first and final blow. The Creator destroyed the being in front of him, and the body of the boy outside collapsed to the floor of the ship, looking as though he was merely asleep. The cyborg, the human, the existence named Roxas would never wake up again. But the body of the boy who was not Roxas, the body of the boy who started it all, would wake up again soon enough. He would have a new personality, a new soul, a new existence, and the process would repeat again.


End file.
